Page 10 of Roping My Rival

“Yes. You tie the knots and make money to buy me things.”

My lips curve in a smile as I huff a short laugh.

“Yeah, sis. That’s it in a nutshell.” Everything I do is to buy her things. A room, food, stuffed dogs, puzzles, and the occasional package of her favourite chocolate. It’s all for Darla.

“Okay, Dane.”

She beams a smile my way and falls back to taking the puzzle apart again. With a forced smile, I tell her I need to go because Trigger needs dinner. We hug and I always hold her until she pushes for me to let go. She kisses me on the cheek, and I wave to the workers as I leave.

They know what I do and how the rodeo schedule is. Only the accounts office knows how sporadic the payments are.

After a quick visit to the big box store to grab the noodle packages on sale, a bag of bruised apples, and the marked-down loaf of bread, I go home.

If you consider a room in a boarding house with six other men home. It’s not ideal, but it beats sleeping in my truck, which I’ve done a time or two when rodeo winnings were scarce.

At least I’m still good enough to have a sponsorship. It’s a meagre one, but it covers the boarding and feed for Trigger—barely, but at least I have my horse because I let them use my face for advertising.

After logging into the Wi-Fi of the boarding house, I log into my banking app while the water boils in the kettle. I’ve exactly $21.19 in my chequing account, and my savings currently cover two months of Darla’s care. I need part-time work on a more regular basis. Badly. It’s the only way I’ll be able to keep up with the expenses and still feed myself.

I shovelled steps and driveways a bit this winter, and that helped. At Christmas, I worked at a pop-up meat shop in the mall for the month of December, and that was nice too, but I need something quick to tide me over until the first rodeo. Quick and legal. That’s a line I can’t cross again, no matter how dire the situation is.

It’s been five years since I toured the bigger money circuit. If returning doesn’t pay off, I might be royally fucked.

After pouring the water over my ramen and sprinkling on some seasoning, I scroll through the local job postings and stop when one jumps out at me.

Immediate casual labour needed. Must be experienced with medium to large animals. Please call 458-478-8537 for more information.

Well, I have experience, I’m available immediately, and I need casual. It could be scraping roadkill off the highway, and I’d do it because eating ramen every day is getting old. I dial the number, and a deep voice picks up on the second ring.

“Burke’s Rodeo School, this is Jesse.”

“Uh, I’m calling about the ad for labour.” Hearing the name Burke over the line makes my guts twist, and I can’t blame it on the ramen.

“Oh, thank god someone called,” he gushes before immediately correcting himself. “I mean, thank you for your interest. Are you available immediately?”

“Yes, I can be.”

“As in…can you be here right away?”

“Well, yes, but I’d like to know what I’m getting into and what kind of pay before I show up for something. How do I know you’re going to pay me?”

Jesse laughs. “I don’t blame you for asking. $50 an hour if you accept payment under the table. $30 an hour if you don’t.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “And what’s the job, exactly?”

“Honestly, you need to see it to believe it. Can you be at the rodeo school right away? You can look and decide if you want it. Walk if you don’t.”

“It’s not burying a human body, is it? Because I really don’t want to go to jail.”

His laughter is tired, but it’s there. “No body. I couldn’t catch my brother, so that’s my problem. If you want the job, just show up.”

The call ends, and I stare at my phone in disbelief. How did the respectable Burke’s Rodeo School come off sounding like they were hiring a hit man? I snarf the rest of my noodles and leave the bowl on the counter.

This will either be a great opportunity or the worst decision I’ve ever made. Let’s hope it’s option number one.

I’ve never been to Burke’s Rodeo School before, but I sure as hell know where it is.

Since moving my sister here last year, I’ve learned the building is almost its own personality. Not to mention, the Burke family is legendary in the rodeo circle. You can’t live in Kissing Ridge and not know the Burke family. If they aren’t winning everything in the rodeo world, they’re in the news saving kittens or some shit.